


Rough luck

by unmeiboy



Category: Johnny's Entertainment, Kis-My-Ft2 (Band)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Finger Sucking, M/M, Phone Calls & Telephones, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-22
Updated: 2015-03-22
Packaged: 2018-03-19 02:02:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3592143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unmeiboy/pseuds/unmeiboy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><a href="http://ic.pics.livejournal.com/unmeiboy/57743089/2315/2315_original.jpg">A photoshoot</a> turns Nikaido on more than it perhaps should; Kitayama finds out and takes the opportunity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rough luck

“He wants you.” Senga speaks low to Kitayama as he takes his place on the set. “He's just pretending he doesn't.” He nods towards Nikaido, who is behind the cameras checking the pictures. Pictures of Kitayama above him, lifting his chin upwards, eyes locked. Senga knows exactly what that kind posing does to him.  
“No,” Kitayama laughs, but then he turns his head around just as Nikaido looks up at them, meets his dark gaze, and quickly goes silent.  
“Go,” and it's obvious that Senga doesn't mean just off the set. “Oh, and. He likes it rough.”

Kitayama easily catches up with Nikaido by the time they enter the dressing room; they're alone, the rest of them either done already, or still out on the set shooting. He closes the door, grabs Nikaido's arm to tug him around, and his eyes look just like before, tinted dark with a beginning to arousal. Suddenly he finds himself not entirely sure what to do, doesn't know what he had had in mind, but his body seems to remember as he pulls Nikaido down for a kiss. It's not gentle, but it turns him on, how easily Nikaido parts his lips for him, how eager he is. They break apart, and with the way Nikaido tries to go back to kissing him immediately, he's sure he at least wants to get something more out of it.  
“Get on your knees,” he tries, voice stern, but he's ready to agree on not making him if he doesn't want to.  
Nikaido hesitates. “But...” His eyes flick to the door; yes, there's people close by. He locks it, sees Nikaido still hesitating, but then Senga's words repeat in his head. _“He wants you”_. _“He likes it rough”_. A thought pops into his mind, and he figures it's worth trying.  
“I'll fuck you if you do?” Nikaido shifts in front of him as he speaks. _“Hard.”_

Nikaido is on the floor before he has the time to even blink, hands running up Kitayama's thighs. For a second he's about to start undoing his pants, but he changes his mind, brings his hand to Nikaido's head instead, pulls it up to his crotch, and the reaction almost surprises him. Nikaido starts rubbing his face against the soft fabric of the dress pants, presses his cheek to Kitayama's cock, and while it has him hardening under the touch, it's the view that makes him draw a heavier breath. He lets him keep it up until he starts shifting his eyes up at Kitayama's face, when Kitayama's cock starts twitching a little against him. With the same hand he has kept on his head, Kitayama takes a gentle hold on his chin, tilts his head upwards like during the shoot, only now Nikaido is further down. The shiver that runs visibly through Nikaido is oh so satisfying.  
“Do you want it in your mouth?” he asks as he undoes his pants, pushes them out of the way and pulls his cock out. Nikaido's lips are already parting as he strokes it slowly in front of his face.  
“Yeah.” Again he takes hold of Nikaido's chin, but just shortly, moves to his lips instead, parts them further with his thumb. Nikaido lets him, opens up to take Kitayama's cock between his lips, lets Kitayama slide it inside, and his tongue is on the head of it the moment it enters.

Kitayama can't quite decide what he likes best about it. Nikaido's tongue is playing over his sensitive skin, his mouth wet and hot and it feels so good when he slides his soft lips along it. But it also looks good, how he takes it further in the longer he keeps it up, how he closes his eyes and sucks, and his face looks almost like it might actually be him getting his cock sucked. He tries moving his hips towards Nikaido, pushes himself a little further in; he just opens up wider, takes it. If anything, he makes a low sound, shifts his legs a little, and it's obvious what he thinks of it.  
“You like it?” he teases, gets a tiny nod out if it because it's all Nikaido can do without pulling back. “Tell me what it is that you like.”  
Nikaido's eyes open, meets Kitayama's with a questioning glance, but then he leans back, takes his mouth away. “I like sucking your dick.” He speaks low against the tip of his cock, his words tickling it; next he winces as Kitayama nestles fingers in his hair, pulls him back onto his erection.  
“Tell me.” Another a glance, but this time he keeps the grip on him steady, slowly thrusts in and out of his mouth. “Again.”

Of course it's impossible for Nikaido to speak as he sucks, but seeing him try is worth it. It's like his mind wants to obey, wants to answer, but his body wants to keep Kitayama where he is, and that conflict in itself seems to be turning him on. The result is a series of moans around his cock, but Kitayama doesn't push for a clearer answer, is satisfied that he even tried. He rewards him with a light stroke, a thumb along his cheekbone, but Nikaido isn't paying attention to it, only keeps running his lips along Kitayama's length, plays his tongue over it as well as he can. He's not really trying hard, though; first Kitayama lets him go at his own pace, at least for the moment. Then he realizes that Nikaido is probably waiting.

So he grabs him by the hair again, twists his fingers into the dark brown strands, and this time he pulls him back, until only the head is still inside his mouth. There's a small pause, tense and silent, when Nikaido just flicks his tongue against it, but then Kitayama tries tugging on his hair. The hand still on his thigh tightens.  
“I didn't know you were such a slut,” he mumbles as he pushes his cock past Nikaido's lips, then pulls back, pushes in again, not nearly fucking his mouth but teasing to do so. “Didn't get any for a while? Or do you just like cock?” Kitayama strokes his cheek softly, speaks in a tone that is much too sweet for the words he's saying; then he angles his cock towards his own touch, against the inside of the same cheek. The shape of it is visible, he rubs it himself as he thrusts a little firmer towards it. Nikaido just sucks around his erection, the hand on Kitayama's thigh squeezing and releasing, an obvious distraction for himself. It doesn't take much thinking to figure out that he wants to touch himself, that he's definitely turned on by it, and Kitayama thinks he can see a bulge in his dress pants, thinks he sees the fabric tighter than before.  
“Show me how sluts suck dick, Nika. How deep can you take it?”

He's aware he isn't being particularly rough. He can definitely be, but first he needs to know what he can do, how far he can go. Although if Senga says he likes it rough he's pretty sure it's not much of a problem, he's not sadistic, but he at least doesn't want him choking. Although, it turns out, as Nikaido opens up and relaxes, that he most likely won't choke at all; he takes him almost all the way in, then pulls back, takes him in again. He does it slowly, though, until Kitayama urges him on with the hand in his hair. That makes him speed up, but only as much as Kitayama silently tells him to. A harsh pull and Nikaido gets into a rhythm that's fast enough to bring Kitayama off if he keeps it up, if he sucks a little harder. A harder thrust than those before has Nikaido gasping around Kitayama's erection, but Kitayama just pulls him in closer again, makes him remember what he's supposed to do. And he does it well.

In the end it's more Kitayama pulling and pushing than Nikaido actually giving a blowjob; he sucks well, though, hand tight on Kitayama's thigh when the thrusts grow faster. The groan Kitayama lets out when he comes seems to go straight to Nikaido, who moans even though he's getting no physical stimulation except the last thrusts into his mouth, cock sliding past his sensitive lips and Kitayama's hand tightening in his hair. Kitayama smirks when Nikaido almost forgets to swallow even though that's what it looks like he had intended to do; some of it spills over his lower lip when he pulls away from his mouth. He tries to catch it with his tongue, but a drop runs onto his chin, and Kitayama pulls him up on his feet before he has the time to wipe it away.  
“Mitsu,” he breathes when he stands, one of his own hands pressed to the front of his pants. It's obvious what he wants.  
“I don't know,” Kitayama responds, brings a finger up to wipe his come from Nikaido's chin.  
“But you said-” Nikaido starts, but is interrupted when Kitayama pushes his finger between his lips, and as if on instinct he sucks on it, swallows the last drop of come.  
Kitayama pretends to keep thinking as he pulls his finger back, instead places his hand on his neck. Only lightly, but it's enough to show who's in charge. “I did. But sluts like you shouldn't get everything they want just like that.”  
“I don't get everything I want.” Maybe Nikaido is trying to provoke now, in an attempt to get what he has wished for from the start.  
“Really? What do you want right now?”  
“... You.”  
“And you got to suck me off.”  
Nikaido sighs in frustration, a sigh that turns into a moan when he rubs himself lightly. “But I want...”  
“Hmm?” He's going to make him say it. Definitely.  
“I want you to fuck me, okay? You said you would so I gave you head so you better-”  
Kitayama laughs, low. “You loved it, don't lie.” Nikaido glares at him while he pauses. “Okay,” he agrees then, and tells Nikaido to get out of the suit.

He watches Nikaido as they change out of the photoshoot clothes, sees the shape of his erection clearly through his underwear, hears him gasp when he accidentally touches it. Kitayama is done faster, is already wearing his own clothes when he throws Nikaido's shirt to him, hits him in the head.  
“Get dressed. You're coming home with me.” He obeys without a thought; it's not until Kitayama grabs him by the wrist and tugs him along to the cars that he suddenly stops.  
“Can't we do it here?”  
“Why, impatient?” Kitayama smirks again.  
“I'm going to go shopping with Senga when he's done,” he explains, “I promised him.”  
Kitayama tugs him close, hisses to him. “What do you want more right now? A new shirt, or me inside of you?” Of course Nikaido didn't hear his and Senga's conversation before; there's no doubt Senga won't mind.

Not much to his surprise, Nikaido lets himself be pulled along after those words and a way too light squeeze to his erection through the rough denim his pants are made of. They get into a car, one of the agency ones with tinted windows that usually drive them around to locations; or sometimes home. Kitayama gives the driver directions to his apartment, says that they're both going there to hang out, and as they roll out of the underground parking he glances to his side, where Nikaido is biting into his lower lip. His fingers are itching to touch Nikaido, tease him, but they also can't be too obvious, with the driver in the front seat. So he picks out his phone, types a sentence into a memo, and shows the screen to Nikaido.

_Call Senga and say you can't go shopping with him while you touch yourself_

Nikaido reads it more than once before he turns to Kitayama, mouths an “impossible” to him, but Kitayama just nods in the direction of his crotch, where he's still obviously hard. Something heats inside him when he watches Nikaido pick his phone out of his pocket. He's actually going to do it. Taking the phone in his left hand, he places his right one, the one next to the wall, between his legs, gives an involuntary harder breath as he presses down just a little. He handles the phone easily with his left hand, finds the contact that say “Kenpi”, and dials. Kitayama watches with tension as they both wait for Senga to pick up, has his phone ready to type in case he needs to give Nikaido directions.  
“Hey, it's me,” he says suddenly, and Kitayama doesn't have to remind him to touch himself; his hand is probably acting without him consciously telling it to, rubbing in circles over his crotch. “No, I already left. … I know, but-” Kitayama interrupts him by showing him his screen again.

_Open your pants_

Nikaido nods towards the driver as he curses silently, but Kitayama continues looking at him expectantly, and he gives in. With an almost shaking right hand he pops the button to his jeans, pulls the zipper down, slips his hand inside. The touch makes him sigh, straight into the phone, but then he stiffens. “I'm in the car. Yeah, sorry, I can't go today. Is it okay?” His hand moves without any hesitation now; only a glance in the direction of the driver's seat every now and then, while he tries to suppress his moans as well as he can. “If I did what?”

Kitayama almost laughs. He wonders what Senga asked him, but is satisfied knowing that he is definitely teasing Nikaido. Senga knows what's going on.  
“Talk to you later.” He probably cuts Senga off, judging by the almost irritated look on his face. “Bye.”

_No more touching until we get home_

He shows him the screen one last time, Nikaido mouths a “fuck you” at him, but takes his hand out of his pants and closes them. They'll be there within ten minutes anyway.

Nikaido is whining before he even gets his shoes off; Kitayama has his own standing next to the wall before he does, and lets his hand trail from Nikaido's ass to between his legs from behind while he waits. It doesn't make him any faster, rather the opposite. He's still hard, so turned on Kitayama thinks he might even see his legs shaking as he finally gets the second shoe off.  
“Mitsu,” he gets out, straightens up, almost looks like he's in pain when he turns to face Kitayama, lower lip between his teeth and hands clenched into fists.  
“Shh.” He takes a step into the corridor, hears Nikaido following him. “Begging won't get you anywhere tonight.”

Maybe Nikaido takes that as a cue to act, as the next thing Kitayama knows is a touch to his arm, then a grip on it, turning him around as Nikaido leans in for a kiss, and Kitayama leans away. Grabs his wrist to counter, to spin and pin him against the nearest wall, his forehead so close to it he probably doesn't see Kitayama behind him.  
“Too needy,” he hisses into Nikaido's ear, feels him shudder at the words. “Behave, or I'll fuck your mouth for real this time. But you'd probably like that, wouldn't you?” He doesn't need any confirmation other than Nikaido's bright red ears, and he continues. “Turns you on? Slut. Could you come just from sucking dick?”

This time, Kitayama actually gets an answer, but it's a silent one, as Nikaido just shakes his head. And then he lets out a gasp that turns into a breathy moan when Kitayama gets a hand on his pants, accidentally brushes the aching bulge in his jeans before he gets started on his belt. He almost surprises himself how quickly he gets the belt and pants undone with just one hand; Nikaido seems less surprised and more relieved when both his pants and his underwear are shoved down to mid-thigh. But he doesn't get anything more, just air around his twitching cock, and while it's better than the tight confines of his jeans, it's still not good. Not at all. He doesn't wait a single second to bring his hand down to it, the one hand Kitayama isn't still holding in a strong grip. To be fair, Kitayama thinks that he sees it coming when that hand gets grabbed as well, but when he pushes them flat against the wall in front of Nikaido, it's probably not what he expected.  
“Stay.” He figures Nikaido gets the idea, that he's not supposed to touch himself, and leaves him like that, pants down and cock twitching, while he casually walks into his bedroom, gets a condom and the bottle of lubrication he usually keeps and uses there. He has other plans for Nikaido tonight, though, that don't involve his bed.

He's almost shocked when he finds Nikaido right where he left him, hands in place and head hung down, facing the floor. Not until he places a hand on his bare ass he looks up, moans low when he rubs a little, squeezes.  
“What did you say?” Kitayama asks, slips a finger between his buttcheeks to rub dry against his opening. “You want me to fuck you? Right here?”  
“Please.” Just the answer he wanted. Begging, even though he had told Nikaido it wouldn't work. Kitayama removes his finger, pulls away to open the bottle of lubrication, squeezes some onto his fingers before he puts it back.  
“No. My fingers will have to do for now.” There's barely no resistance at all when he pushes the first finger inside; Nikaido lets him in with a heavy breath, hips pushing back almost immediately, as if searching for just something, _anything_. Without asking him, Kitayama pushes in another one. Not too early though. One of Nikaido's hands leave the wall, sneakily moves down to where his cock is twitching and leaking, and it's his sharp breath that gives him away. Kitayama slaps him on the side of his ass as a warning; when he doesn't stop he shoves at his shoulder so that he almost loses his balance a little. That gets his hand back on the wall, and he leans his forehead against it as well, with a sigh.  
“Don't be greedy. Enjoy what you get.” He increases the pace of his fingers, likes how Nikaido's breathing speeds up a little with them. He moves them a bit rougher, reaches deeper inside, and at one thrust everything seems to tense for a second. The sound accompanying the change, a moan that's nearly a whine, is so sweet to Kitayama's ears, makes him hot all over. He tries to find the spot again, because that must have been it, and Nikaido's body seems to try to help, squeezing around him.

He keeps it up like that for minutes, thrusts his fingers inside rough and fast, brushing against Nikaido's prostate more often than not. By the time he feels his arm starting to give in to the repetitive movements Nikaido's legs seem to start giving in as well; they shake a little with every other thrust, and he's leaning heavily against the wall. He's continuously whimpering, too, in obvious pleasure but also frustration. Once, Kitayama sneaks a hand to his front, runs it along his hard length, wets the entire head of his erection with pre-come. He nearly laughs when Nikaido chokes on his breath, when his hips on reflex moves towards the touch, and he can't hold it in when Nikaido almost sobs as he lets go.  
“Mitsu,” he manages to get out when he can barely take it anymore, “Mitsu, ah, stop.”  
Kitayama doesn't. “Do you _really_ want me to stop?” He scoffs when he sees Nikaido's shaking his head, his soft hair following the movement. A part of his wants to pull on it, but he won't. Not yet.

With that answer he does stop, lets his fingers leave Nikaido's insides clenching around nothing, and if anything, he sounds more frustrated now. He does seem a little happy when Kitayama shoves at his pants, makes them slide down his legs and onto the floor; without being asked to, he steps out of them and spreads his legs. That's not quite what Kitayama has in mind though, and instead he grabs him by the shoulders, pulls him away from the wall, turns him around to look him straight into his eyes.  
Kitayama takes hold of one of his wrists. “Not here.” Now a tug on it, and Kitayama walks first in the direction of another room. Not his bedroom, which Nikaido is surprised to realize. Before they enter the living room he tugs again, a harsh tug that sends Nikaido in front of him, then a shove between his shoulder blades when he is where Kitayama wants him.

Nikaido catches himself against the backrest of Kitayama's couch, and Kitayama sees him shiver when he gives a short laugh. It's still dark in the room, only the light from the hallway keeping it from being completely black. Not that it would matter to Nikaido, who's bent over and won't see what's going on behind him anyway, unless he straightens up. Which Kitayama won't let him do.

His belt buckle is loud in the silence, silence that is only interrupted by cars passing by, by the sirens of an ambulance. The sounds of the city are still there, but in his apartment they're distant, Nikaido's breaths, no, his every movement audible next to the metallic sound of the belt being undone, then the zipper to Kitayama's pants opening. When he gets the fabric out of the way, pulls his cock out and strokes it as he just looks at Nikaido's exposed backside, he exaggerates everything; breathes a little deeper, moans a little louder than he usually would, just because Nikaido can't see it. But just as the sounds of him undressing he's loud in the otherwise quiet apartment, and Nikaido hears every little thing clearly. At least that's what Kitayama assumes when he shifts his weight back and forth between his feet, can't seem to stay still.

Then suddenly there's a moan from Nikaido, and Kitayama is up next to him within seconds, catches him rubbing his erection against the back of the couch. The quick movement startles Nikaido, makes him try to raise his head to look at Kitayama; all he gets is a firm hand on his back, right below where his neck starts, that presses him back down.  
“Don't stain my furniture,” he hisses, keeps his hand on Nikaido to make sure the message gets through. He pauses to think before he adds, “feels dirty enough to have a slut like you in my apartment.”

Considering what has been said so far, he assumes Nikaido won't be upset at that. And no, he does fist his hands, clenching them tight together, but the groan he lets out isn't close to irritated or angry. If anything he sounds frustrated, and just to tease Kitayama backs until he's right next to Nikaido's thigh, rubs his hard cock against the side of it.  
“This what you want?” He sees Nikaido nodding, and then comes the pleading.  
“Just do me already,” and as much as it heats his insides, makes his cock twitch in anticipation, it won't be quite that easy.

Nikaido yelps when he gets a quick slap across his ass, but it's more in shock than in actual pain. Kitayama leaves him like that, steps away as he rolls the condom on, and he can see that Nikaido is waiting for the next strike, legs tense and head still facing down. When he slicks himself up with some more lube he moans for real, unable to hold it in because this whole situation turns him on more than he'd ever admit; he has a group member bent over his couch, begging him to fuck him, getting off on his dirty talk. It's too good to be true, and Kitayama knows that once he gets inside him, he won't be able to hold back. But he also has a very strong feeling that Nikado will be able to take it; in fact, he could probably take more, judging by what's been happening so far.

“I'm not doing it because you asked, okay?” he says to Nikaido as he positions himself, kicks his legs further apart with one foot, and he's surprised by the way his own voice sounds. Deep, almost threatening, but through the hand he has on Nikaido's hip he feels him shiver at the words. “I'm going to fuck you because I want to. And because I know you'll take it, like a good bitch.”

He doesn't hold back his groan when he pushes inside; Nikaido is tight, there's more resistance than he would have expected at first, but he doesn't tense further. Instead, Kitayama can swear he relaxes more after he releases a deep breath, turns the end of it into a shaky moan. For a moment he considers waiting a little, but quickly throws that thought away when Nikaido whines like he's about to beg again. He pulls back, thrusts back in, fast and hard from the start, relishes the sound he pulls from Nikaido, loud, surprised, but not in a bad way.

Nikaido keeps tightening around him, contracting and squeezing every now and then, but Kitayama keeps his pace up, fucks him roughly just like he had promised. The sounds Nikaido is making are a little too loud; high-pitched, unashamed, every time Kitayama thrusts all the way in. There's no way his neighbors won't hear a single thing, but at the same time it's so hot to have him bent over like that, to make him a moaning mess, that he really doesn't care. The moans only encourage him to do it harder, and soon Nikaido's hips are hitting the backrest with every thrust. It must hurt, at least a little, but it also has him rub against the couch like before, so Nikaido doesn't protest.

It does give Kitayama an idea, though, and he pulls away from him, grabs him by the soft, black strands on the back of his head.  
“I said don't stain my furniture, didn't I?” He tugs on the hair like he had wanted to before; the pain pulls a sound from Nikaido's throat, but again he doesn't resist as Kitayama forcefully guides him around the couch, shoves him down onto the seats. He ends up halfway on his side, facing downwards but not on his stomach, and Kitayama settles behind him, pushes his top leg up a little, makes it bend so that it can still rest against the couch seat. “Filthy,” he adds while he pushes his cock back inside, and Nikaido gives a choked little moan in response.

It's easier to fuck him harder like this, when he's below and Kitayama is on top. Even better is when Kitayama bends down, places his hands on each side of Nikaido's body before leans over him while he continues his harsh pace; when he's closer he can hear things he couldn't earlier, like how out of breath Nikaido sounds, the little whines he sometimes lets out instead of a loud moan, and damn, is it hot.

Looks like Nikaido is feeling it too, as he again sneaks his hand down between his legs, more hesitant than before.  
“You wanna come?” Kitayama asks, keeps his voice as steady as he can because even though he's the one in control, he can't deny how good it feels, how much it's affecting him too. “Go ahead, but I'll keep fucking you even if you do.”

He's not sure if the words are what makes Nikaido jerk and tighten, or if it's because he's hitting something good inside him, but it doesn't matter. Nikaido accepts the deal, gets his hand around his cock, runs it up and down as fast as he can in the awkward angle he's in, front halfway pressed against the couch. The thrusts have him moving against it, too, rhythmically pushes him forwards, so much that Nikaido has to brace himself against the armrest with his other arm. Kitayama can't help but feel satisfied when he sees Nikaido struggling like that to touch himself, ups his pace to make it even more difficult for him. The change has his moans grow higher, then the walls around Kitayama's cock tighten so much he has to slow down again. However, it's not enough that he has to stop, no, he continues fucking Nikaido through his orgasm, keeps it slow even after he is starting to relax again.

It almost disappoints him a little when he sees that Nikaido has managed to spill himself onto his hand and not on the couch covers; he must have kept in mind not to dirty them. While it feels good to know he has listened and obeyed, it would have been even more entertaining, dirtier, to pause and make him lick his own semen off the couch. However, it's not like he has nothing to work with either.

Kitayama has to hold back a groan when he pulls back, grabs the wrist and tugs Nikaido's sticky hand up and away from the couch, forcefully enough that Nikaido follows it and sits up on his knees. It's partly because of how he really just wants to put his cock back inside him, feel the warmth and get lost in the sensations that come with the friction, but it's also partly because of what Nikaido looks like. He's slightly out of breath, hair a dark, tousled mess, cheeks tinted pink and his eyes are dark, but at the same time they make it look like he's a little lost in what's going on.  
“Weren't you going to-” he starts, but then Kitayama guides his hand upwards.  
“I changed my mind. I want you to suck on your fingers like you sucked my dick back at the studio.” He pushes at Nikaido's hand until he starts moving it himself, slips his own fingers past his lips with an expression that is so shameful it's arousing. For a second Kitayama considers teasing him some more, maybe use fingers to fuck him while he swallows down his own come, but he figures that maybe the best tease is exactly what he's doing now. “Maybe you'd like to have it in your mouth again?” He wraps his hand around the base of his own cock, mostly to attract Nikaido's attention, make him look at it. “I could fuck your mouth instead of your ass?”

While the thought is very attractive, Kitayama isn't planning on that, which comes clear when Nikaido moans around his own fingers, pulls them out to lick the rest of the come from his hand, because as soon as they're clean enough he pushes at him again, has him turn around and brace his upper body on the high armrest, shoves him around until he's standing on his knees, face again turned away from Kitayama. He lets himself go then, doesn't hold back when he pushes back inside Nikaido, pounds into him fast and hard from the start, hands so tight on his hips there might be marks left later, but he doesn't care.

Nikaido doesn't seem to, either. He's quieter now, still lets out small sounds but not nearly as needy as they had been before; now they're only little reactions as he just takes it. Somehow, he is so cooperative now that Kitayama nearly feels bad for using him, but then again, had he actually had something against it, he would have protested. And gradually he starts pushing back a little, meets the thrust, noises growing in volume just the slightest.  
“You like being used, don't you?” he gets out; on top of having held out this long, it's really hot to know Nikaido will nod when he defines it in words. “You like to get fucked even when you don't get anything out of it. Like a toy.”

There's a whimper coming from him at that; Kitayama can see his hands clench at the couch before his body clenches around him, hinting that it's turning him on again. It's not something that stays in his mind for very long, though, because then all the pleasure as well as the sounds and Nikaido's submissiveness catches up on him, and he comes with a last couple of thrusts, stills while he lets the orgasm run through his whole body.

Nikaido waits patiently until Kitayama pulls away, then he straightens up, is about to collapse into a sitting position on the couch, and Kitayama grabs him by the arm to prevent him from doing so.  
“Let's shower, okay?” His voice is gentle this time, and Nikaido nods silently in response.

Showering together isn't something they're foreign to, it happens more than once a tour, so it's comfortable, and still a large contrast to what they have been doing just a little earlier. They take turns rubbing each others backs, and it's all normal, until Kitayama's fingers slide over Nikaido's hips, where little bruises are not yet visible but make him wince anyway.  
“Sorry,” Kitayama mumbles, moves his hands back up to Nikaido's shoulders.  
“Don't be.” To his surprise, Nikaido turns around. “It was amazing. How did you know I... ?”  
Kitayama turns him back around to continue washing his back. “Was it better than with Senga?”  
“It was different. Kenpi talks less...” He starts normally, before he realizes what Kitayama is saying. “... He told you, didn't he?” There's a hint in his voice saying he's a little upset, but Kitayama still can't do anything but laugh softly.  
“He said you like it rough. Figured out the rest on my own.”


End file.
